


A love lost in the Golden Sands

by Vortex_Strider



Series: The Adventures of Clara and Jane [1]
Category: Doctor Who, Jane Austen - Fandom
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-10
Updated: 2016-04-10
Packaged: 2018-06-01 11:44:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6517270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vortex_Strider/pseuds/Vortex_Strider
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jane and Clara are both trapped in a Egyptian painting stored in the Under Gallery. Can the Doctor figure out the paintings secrets in time to save Jane and Clara?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"Ooooo...." He stopped mid sentance crouching down, eye-level with a red item in a clear box resting on a pedestal. Clara and Jane continued walking until a small smash behind them caused them to turn in unison. The Doctor returned to them, gently making his way across the shattered glass fragments on the floor, placing the red item on his head, grinning happily.  
"One day you might be able to just walk past a fez." Clara said exasperated.  
"Well it is not today."

"Where are we anyway?" Clara asked as she looked around the room, the Doctor had paused and was now standing in front of a full length mirror, adjusting the fez upon his head. He was whispering, and smiling at his own reflection.  
"It looks familiar, I'd say we were in the Under Gallery." Her gaze bore into the back of his head, as he persisted to ignore her.  
"Who said that!?" She exclaimed all of a sudden, causing Jane to start.  
"Oh, Clara dearest, how you frightened me so!" Poor Jane breathed gently as she tried to compose her-self.  
"Doctor!" She exclaimed, something had caught her eye, she ran towards him almost pushing him out of the way. She stood mouth opened as she was greeted not by her own reflection staring back at her, but instead a beautiful, youthful woman with blazing red-hair falling down her shoulders in gentle waves.  
"A very pretty woman you are, you're eyes are as beautiful as a chestnut tree standing strong in the forest deep." Her voice flowed as softly as a birds song and her smile enticing, Clara found herself involuntarily moving closer.  
"Come away Clara," the doctor said as he lead her away from the mirror, she stood, transfixed at something only she could see. "Not everyone is strong enough to resist the Mirror of Compliments." He picked up a white sheet bundled on the floor beside the Mirror, "it it time for you to sleep my fair lady, until next time." He threw the white cloth over the mirror.  
"What was that?" Clara asked weakly as she regained some of her-self.  
"Count yourself lucky, Clara."  
"I feel, I felt,"  
"Enamoured?"  
"Yes."  
"She has that effect on people."  
"Except you it would seem" Jane added from behind,  
"I am not human. I am not as susceptible to influences of the mind as you are."  
"What was it?" Jane asked as she moved a few steps closer, examining the white cloth with curiosity.  
"The Fair Lady of Compliments."  
"A mirror that compliments you?!" Jane replied intrigued.  
"Full of curiosity I see! Clara, I like this one."  
"You have guessed correctly, yes that is her purpose. It was created mid 17th Century by Nymphadora Argyle, a witch who sadly, passed away during the Salem Witch trials."  
Jane jumped backwards, she hurriedly moved to Clara's side.  
"Witchcraft."  
"Yes witchcraft." He replied amused. "Do you know of the Salem Witch trials Jane?"  
"A little, only what I have read in passages. Twenty people were executed for accusations of witch craft. "  
"Yes, only not all the witch craft was evil as most of history implies, I know, I was there." He added seeing the horror on her face. "Nymphadora, Nelly, as she liked to be called, was kind, she tried to use her powers to make others feel better. This mirror was one of her creations. She was not a beautiful woman and one day after being hurt badly by the man she loved, she ran home and vowed never to desire the love of another living being again. Using her craft she placed within the mirror a part of herself, she gave that part the looks she had always desired. She spoke to the mirror everyday in her despair, one day when she couldn't handle anymore she cast a spell to bind herself completely within the mirror. There she could live on in the beauty, and shower other young girls with loving compliments that she never had." He paused, Jane's countenance had changed, seeing she was thoroughly enthralled he continued.

"Except, her power was stronger than she realised, those who looked into the mirror began to depend upon the euphoria it provided. The more they returned, the more they absorbed. They soon became glamoured by it, hypnotised I suppose you could say. Many lost their minds, driven mad by the need. Nymphadora, once again became despaired, she instructed a girl to cover the mirror with a white sheet, that it would only send her to sleep, and leave the place where she was. For centuries she remained locked within the mirror, hidden, forgotten, untouched." He paused again with melancholy.

"How did the Mirror end up here." This time it was Clara, her face saddened by the fate of the poor woman.  
"The whole story is unclear, the mirror was discovered, sold to a French Aristocrat who gave it to his daughter for her birthday. Nelly had been asleep for so long that she did not awaken when the cloth was first removed, it took the tears and the broken heart of a 19 year old beauty. They became friends, until the poor girl lost her senses. It was then brought here, to England and given to U.N.I.T to guard, and here it shall remain." He looked around the room,  
"Why here?" Jane asked,  
"Before the Doctor had a chance to answer, Clara did,  
"Because this is where artefacts deemed too dangerous are bought."  
"Not just the dangerous, but the ones that your primitive, simple minds cannot understand or explain, so you lock them away from view. All these things, beautiful in their own ways are just-" he stopped, jaw-locked as he looked across the other side of the room.

"Here it is, it's been too long." He said gently as if greeting an old friend.  
Jane edged closer to a large gold frame that held a large picture. She carefully, timidly raised a hand as if to touch it.  
"But it, it is not like any painting I have ever seen before. It jumps out at you." She waved her hand in front of her as if trying to touch the very rocks that projected outward toward her. "It is nothing like the artists of my time. What year is this? What trickery is this?" She was not alarmed, but she was again cautious.

"Trickery?" Awoken from his reviere "Oh no no my dear, no, it is not trickery, it is Gallifreyan Art, a sliver of time held, in perfect stasis. The year, 2016, although irrelevant as this art does not originate, nor does it exist on Earth, except what you find in these halls."  
The doctor stopped, turning his gaze past Janes ear he caught sight of a small painting on the other side of the room. He slowly made his way toward it, his sight engaged in inspecting the painting.  
"What of this one? It is not Gallifreyan?"  
"No. No. This one, has puzzled me for many years, and not many things can do that. "  
"For years?" Clara piped in.  
"Yes, I first came across it in my earlier years, when I was marooned on this primitive planet, I was forced to work for none other than U.N.I.T. "  
"You, had a job?"  
"Yes I had a job, I was very good at it too." He looked puzzled towards Clara, hesitating with his next word and movement.  
"What?"  
"Oh nothing, haven't I told you this before, I have a feeling we've already had this conversation?"  
"From a different face, yes"  
"Ah why didn't you say, I'd have stopped the waffling"  
"It was interesting hearing it from your face, and it reminded me that underneath that harsh, mean looking quizzical brow, you are still the same doctor. "  
" Yes, well. Enough of the mushy- stuff. Let's move on shall we?"  
"Jane." Clara called as she stood up, she grabbed the Doctor's arm as she wobbled,  
"I'm fine, still feeling the effect of the Fair Lady," she held her hand to her stomach, then to her mouth.  
"It'll pass soon enough" he said awkwardly patting Clara on the back as she leant over, placing her hands on her knees.  
"Here" he said, nudging a silver bucket towards her with his foot. She reached for it, but he slapped her hand away, "don't touch it with bare skin, very nasty consequences" She pulled her sleeve over her hand and pulled it closer just in time.  
"Jane" the doctor called again, no reply. "Why do they always wonder off?" He muttered.  
"Jane, Jane, where are you?" This time it was Clara calling with a hint of worry edging into her voice.  
"Uh-oh"  
"Uh-oh? I really don't like it when I hear those words from your mouth Doctor." A hint of dread now edging into her voice.  
The Doctor picked up a red scarf off the floor, he held it in his hand for Clara to see. Then to his dismay as much as hers, he turned towards the painting and gulped. "Oh." 


	2. Chapter 2

"I should have watched her more closely she isn't used to this."   
"Clara, she is as curiously reckless as you were, and still are I hasten to add." The Doctor never took his eyes off the painting, he examined every part. He pulled out a magnifying glass and looked over a small section of the painting, something had caught his eye. He stopped and stood upright. "Oh dear."   
"What now?" He ignored the question, and returned to his examination.   
Clara wobbled over towards him, kicking the bucket along in front of her as she went. She crouched down beside him looking at the same spot he appeared to be so transfixed on.   
"How very brilliant," his face lightened, "of course!"   
"Brilliant, what?" She said confused.  
"The painting" he said excitedly and returned to his thoughts.   
"The painting? Are you going to elaborate on that or do I have to play twenty questions?"   
"Clara, I don't think now is the time for games."   
"No, I-" she was in no mood for jokes.  
"Look" he placed the magnifying glass over the area of the painting, "what do you see?"  
Clara bent in closer to look, "it looks like people, and there, is that, is that Jane?!"   
"I do believe it is yes."   
"But how?"   
"The painting must have some form of stasis ability, I wonder....." He looked back towards 'Gallifrey falls' hanging on the wall. "Could it be?"   
"What?"   
"Yes, a similar form of stasis. Now that is curious."  
"Oh you know what, when you're ready to explain your brilliant discoveries let me kn-" there was a horrible belching noise as Clara removed more of the contents from her stomach. Just missing the bucket she caught his boots.  
"Lovely." He replied unimpressed. "I gave you the bucket for a reason."  
"Yes and you can just take your bucket and shov- aahhhhh" Clara screeched out in pain as she grabbed the bucket with her hand, she dropped it almost immediately, it fell on its side and emitted a loud ear-piercing buzz. Clara clutched her injured hand awkwardly to her ear, the doctor pulled a cloth from his pocket, picked up the bucket and set it the right way up. The wailing ceased and a odd silence once again filled the room.   
"What was that?"   
"Someone's idea for a joke most likely."   
Clara tenderly looked at her burned hand. The Doctor saw this, held her arm and pulled her closer so he could get a better look at the damage.   
"I have just the thing for that, wait here" he disappeared into the TARDIS. Clara turned to the painting, watching the little speck that was Jane, intent upon wishing that speck was back at her side.   
"This should clear up your hand in no time." He stopped, looking up at where he thought he left Clara standing.   
"Clara? Clara, where are you?"   
"Seriously why do they always do tha-" he spun around quickly. "Oh no." He ran to the picture, grabbed his magnifying glass and inspected the painting again, and sure enough right next to Jane, stood another shape, Clara.   
"Well how did she-" utterly puzzled by this second disappearance.   
"Maybe you just need to look at it for a certain amount of time." He said to himself, he stood looking at the picture, nothing happened, not a flicker of activity. He tried touching the picture in different places, maybe it was activated by touch? He checked the frame, removed it from the wall, put it back. Nothing. "Clara. Jane." He said quietly. "How am I going to get you out of this one?"


End file.
